Paradise Stolen
by majorslashsquad
Summary: Following What Now? Follow a series of events that lead to a locker room fight. What started it, and is there a way to repair the friendships and relationships that hang in the balance? Slash Don't like it, don't read it. Rating for a reason.
1. prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue. Just borrowing.

Paul Lavesque was pissed off. No, scratch that. He wasn't just pissed off. He was on the verge of killing something. God, where was that sledge hammer when you freaking needed it? He wished he could use it right now. What was the cause of this sudden rage? None other than his fellow wrestlers. As the son-in-law of the owner of WWE, he was given a certain responsibility to keep everyone in check and make sure that no one killed and/or maimed anyone else. It was an unspoken rule within his family.

So when he got a call that a handful superstars and divas were in a full out brawl, including his protege Randy, there were going to be problems. By the time he had gotten to the arena, security had managed to pull the combatants apart. Finding the head security guard, he cringed when he saw that he seemed worse for wear.

"What the hell happened?" he asked as his blood pressure began to rise by the second.

"We aren't entirely sure, sir," the guard replied. "All we know is that we heard Orton, I believe, screaming at Mr. Austin."

"Do you know what he was screaming?"

"That he was a son of a bitch. And then, this is when it gets really strange. Mr. ah, Runnels, yes began to attack his older brother, accusing him of trying to ruin his life. Others tried to break things up, but Mr. Mizanin broke down in tears-"

"I DON'T CARE IF I GET CARTED OFF!" Randy screamed from the locker room area. "THAT MOTHER FUCKER IS GOING TO DIE!"

"I think I'd better take things from here," Paul said. "I assure you that whatever damage they may have caused , we will take care of it."

"They seem to be pretty dangerous, are you sure you can handle them?" the guard asked nervously.

"Trust me, if there is anyone who can control that guy, it's going to be me." Paul turned and headed to where his angry younger friend was pacing back and forth. The scene wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be. Ted had a fat lip that was bleeding slightly. He was talking to Adam and Chris while nervously looking over at his lover, Cody. The usually perky and happy younger man was leaning in the corner scowling and sporting a black eye.

John Cena was desperately trying to hold back a raging Randy Orton from a doorway leading to another room. A sobbing Mike was pleading with him to calm down. His shirt was torn, and his usually pristine hair was a mess. Phil Brooks was trying to talk to him while Maryse and a group of Divas stood in the far side of the locker room trying to make sense of what was going on. There was only one thing that could stop the chaos. He took a deep breath.

"EVERYONE! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" There was silence instantly, save for Mike's whimpering and the occasional growl from the angrier occupants of the room. "Now some of you need to go to the trainers and get cleaned up. Mike, go get a drink of water, and calm down. Phil, make sure it's just a drink of water."

The crowd dispersed and did what they were instructed. Eventually, ice was applied to what needed ice, cuts had bandages, and people that had to be kept apart were kept apart. When at long last there was silence, Paul spoke again.

"Ok, now can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" In the quiet that followed, a small voice answered.

"It's kind of a long story."


	2. It started with a whisper

_ "It's kind of a long story." Phil was the first to say anything. He looked around the room and when no one else seemed willing to start talking he shrugged. Someone had to start this thing, or they would be here all night. The look on Paul's face guaranteed it. So, he began._

Two weeks prior

Phil was used to being the cool head. He was the one that others came to when an impartial third-party was needed. He also was good for a ride somewhere if one of his friends had too much to drink and a good shoulder if a friend seemed depressed and needed someone to talk with. Normally, he didn't care. It was nice being the sane guy, the one that was taken seriously on a routine basis. On the other hand, sitting in a dingy hole-in-the-wall bar and sipping a Pepsi while making sure Mike didn't do something stupid was getting a little old. And listening to Randy talking about the doomed relationship was grating on his nerves. It had been a month, for God's sake. They needed to make up or move on. And as it was standing, it didn't look like either was happening.

His younger friend in question was sitting at the bar, his head in his hand. He looked the picture of pure misery, but God, did Phil just want to slap him. This was Mike's own fault, and he had to have known it. If he was so pissed that Randy was devoting so much time to helping his friends, why was he practically pushing him away? And why would he spend the night with someone else, regardless of the fact nothing happened. (Or so Mike claimed, but he had heard that Josh was saying otherwise.)

"Mike, you need to accept the fact that Randy is most likely not going to take you back," Phil said sternly.

"But, I love him," Mike said for what seemed the 100th time that night. "I get it. I screwed up. I shouldn't have slept with Josh, but I was lonely, and scared, and I wasn't thinking straight, and-"

"And you need to talk about this with Randy," Phil pressed. "Sober, mind you. And for God's sake, quit moping around like an asshole." He sighed as he thought about how they could resolve this. He knew something had to be done, or the delicate balance that was their work environment was going to be fucked up beyond repair.

His train of thoughts were struck dead with the arrival of another one of his coworkers. John Cena entered the bar, and spotting the two, he walked over to join them.

"How are you guys doing tonight?" he asked.

"I want my Randy," Mike said miserably as took another swig of his beer. "I miss him so much I can't stand it. I want him to hold me and tell me things are going to be better." He stopped and glared at John. "That's how I'm doing tonight, John!"

"OK, then," John said. He was starting to worry about the younger man. Not that he wasn't worried already, but this was going on just a little too long for his liking. It didn't look like Randy was about to take him back, although he seemed to be doing a lot of brooding as of late. Maybe he was missing Mike as much as Mike was missing him? He turned to Phil.

"I could take him back if you want to get out of here," he said giving the straight edge superstar a grateful smile." I know how much you hate hanging around places like these."

"Yeah, thanks. Someone has to make sure that these guys don't kill themselves." Phil saluted John with his Pepsi, dropped a couple of singles on the bar and got out of there. Good, let Cena take care of Mike for a while. He got back to the hotel where they were staying and decided to see who was up for hanging out. There was no one, so he ended up in his room that he was sharing with Ted.

Ted was on the phone with Cody telling him again and again how much he loved his boyfriend. Of course, he had to. He and Cody had managed to patch up their differences, but it was going to be a while before Cody could trust him again. Not that Phil blamed him. And how stupid was Ted to get drunk and take some man whore to his bed. He was lucky as hell he didn't have some disease. But, that was the nature of the beast called alcohol.

"I'm here in the hotel room with Phil," Ted was saying. "Say hi, Phil." He held up his cell phone.

"Hi, Codes," Phil said as he rolled his eyes. "He's not doing stupid shit...right now." He laughed as Ted shot him an annoyed look. He changed into sleep wear and he lay down in his bed. As he listened to the other man talk on the phone, he let his mind wander. Then he heard something interesting.

"Are you and Dustin still arguing? He needs to back off about this. I know he's just looking out for you, but what does he care that you took me back? You're a big boy, and it's not like he made an effort to be a big brother before. What's making him so protective now? Look I'm not trying to start a fight, Codes, I'm just saying it seems weird. I'll talk to you later, baby. You need to get some sleep. Don't worry I'm being watched like a hawk. I love you, too. Bye."

"Dustin is still giving you shit?" Phil threw out casually. As tired as he was, he was determined to stay on top of Ted and Cody's issues should the need to intervene arise.

"Yeah, and I wouldn't be so annoyed by it if he had always been there for Codes, but the fact is, he only seems to care what's going on when Cody's in a jam," Ted replied with a growing frown. "It doesn't sit right with me."

"Maybe he's trying to make up for lost time," the strait edge savior mused. "People do change, you know."

"Maybe," Ted said frowning. "But not just out of the blue like this. Ah, well, maybe I'm just imagining things. I'd better get some sleep in any event. Good night."

"Good night."

The next few days were uneventful. There was the customary traveling and media work. He talked to Lita whenever he had the chance. He read, worked out, did laundry, and wrestled in front of millions of people. Then shit started getting strange. He couldn't put a finger on the exact moment the air started getting tense, but he knew the source of it.

Walking through an arena, he overheard Randy and Steve Austin having an odd conversation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he heard Randy growl.

"Oh, shit was this your coffee?" Steve threw back casually. There was a pause.

"Cut the shit, Austin. You know what I'm talking about."

"Relax, junior. It's not like he's your concern anymore. From what I heard, Josh has been barking up his tree for a while. I heard what happened when Mike-"

"I heard. Just don't go touching him, alright? I'm not stupid, and I know what you're trying to do."

"Like I said, I don't see how that's any of your concern. Anyway, shouldn't you be keeping an eye on good old Teddy? From what I hear, he's in hot water with Cody again."

Phil frowned. What the hell was up between Cody and Ted? And why didn't he know about it? He was normally one of the first ones that found out about this kind of thing. He made a mental note to talk to Ted. Then something caught his attention.

"Mike's not your problem anymore. Why don't you let him grow a pair and talk to whoever he wants? Anyway, I'll see you around. Oh, and Cole has been looking around for you." The sound of footsteps could be heard followed by angry mutters.

"Is this story going anywhere anytime soon?" Paul asked. He was tired and getting more frustrated as the monologue went on.

"I know what the argument was about," piped up a voice. "And it actually has everything to do with what just happened.

A/N: Who is the next story-teller, and what the hell is going on? What is Steve's plot? Why is Randy so pissed off? These questions and more will be answered in the next chapter.


	3. And things got intersting

_Cody stared blankly as he spoke, not really wanting to be there, but not really having a choice. This was going to be a night that he didn't want to remember. A whole two weeks, actually, but who was counting? I Might as well get this over with._

_(Flashback to about a week prior)_

He felt relatively good after talking to Ted for the night. He still wasn't crazy about the distance, but he knew that the older man cared about him, so he grinned and bared it. While he was in the latest arena waiting for the show to start, he spent some time on his laptop looking at some comic book fan sites when he heard a noise coming from another room.

"Haven't seen you in a while, Mikey." Steve Austin? What the hell was he doing here? He didn't have to be backstage till next week. He frowned and leaned against the door to listen to what was going on.

"Hi, Steve." Mike didn't sound all that happy to see the older man. Not that Cody blamed him all that much. The man gave him the creeps.

"Ah, don't be like that, Sweet heart," Steve said jokingly. "What we had wasn't that bad, was it? You seemed to enjoy it enough."

"We agreed not to speak of it again."

"What if I told you I didn't want to stick to that anymore?" Cody frowned. They had been lovers? When? He didn't remember them ever hanging out together.

"The deal was to keep you "entertained" that one weekend, and you would put in a word for me to get a long term contract," Mike said, lowering his voice. "Nothing would come of it, and we would both move on with our lives."

"Well, it's not like you're with someone these days, anyway. Everyone knows what you did with Josh-"

"That never happened!"

"That's not what he has been saying."

"He's a lying twat, then! I didn't have anything to do with him, and I don't want anything else to do with you, so fuck off!"

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy what happened, Mike." Cody had to strain to hear what was said next. "You loved it when we-"

_"Hold on a fucking minute!" Mike suddenly snapped, getting everyone's attention in the room. "Would you mind not airing my dirty laundry in front of the entire locker room?"_

_ "So, that really happened," Randy said quietly. He looked disappointed. _

_ "There's not enough time to air all of it, darling," Austin called from the other room._

_ "Steve, shut the fuck up, before I kick your ass anymore than I already have!" Randy snapped._

_ "Why is this happening?" Mike whimpered. Why is this-"_

_ "Oh, shut up, Mike, it's your own fucking fault!" John H. sneered. "You are so pathetic!" He turned his attention to Paul. "If you don't mind there is a little more to this story."_

(John's POV)

He was starting to wonder what the hell was going on. Cody had passed by where he was stretching a second ago, and he looked mildly concerned. He shrugged it off as being a potential problem with Ted and went back to what he was doing. Those two had been through a lot lately, and he really did wish them the best; they were good friends. Then, not ten minutes later, Mike walked by looking an odd combination of disgusted and embarrassed. He laughed that off as well. God, his ex was a moron.

What got his attention was when Randy stormed by looking like someone had threatened to take a prized possession, that he began to take notice. Getting up, we went to look for Randy. He found him getting a Gatorade.

"How have you been doing?" he asked casually. Randy looked up at him.

"I've been doing alright," he said distractedly.

"You seem to have something on your mind," John said thoughtfully. He knew he couldn't press his friend too much, or he would just close down, but if there was drama, then he had to put a stop to it as soon as possible.

"Steve Austin has been scouting out new talent, and he's been hitting on Mike," Randy said with a frown. "I know we aren't together and all, but it doesn't sit right with me."

"That is weird that Steve would be into someone like him," John said. He laughed at the look Randy gave him. "What? That would hardly be a match made in heaven."

"They would make a weird-ass couple," Randy conceded after thinking about it. "All the more reason it doesn't sit well with me. I walked in on them a couple minutes ago, and Steve had his arms around him whispering shit in his ear. It was creepy, man. What could he possibly have to say to him?"

"He seems to have sound enough," John said, shrugging." In any event, you two aren't together, and he is a big boy. Let him sort it out."

"I guess," Randy replied. "Oh, have you seen Cody?"

_"Is there anyone in this room that does not talk shit about me?" Mike seethed._

_ "I don't," Cena fell like lead, as everyone else seemed to shift back and forth with various degrees of guilt on their faces.  
_

_ "But he's about it," Hennigan snickered._

_ "Shut up, John."_

_ "So, you and Steve hooked up so you could have a contract? That probably explains how you got on the Real World, too."_

_ "Shut up, John!"_

_ "Did you show him your beer drinking skills, and talk about growing up in Parma, and things just went from there?"_

_ "SHUT UP, JOHN! AND FUCK YOU! WE WERE CAMPED OUT IN A HOTEL ROOM, HE WAS BORED, AND I WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING TO GET HERE, OK?" he shuddered. "I just wanted that contract so much."  
_

_ "Jesus, was it that bad?" Steve called, sounding annoyed._

_ "Steve, this is your last damn warning," Randy growled. "Shut the fuck up."_

_ "Calm down, Randy," Cena said, trying to save his friend from manslaughter charges."Say, Cody, just what the fuck is your problem with Dustin, anyway?"_

_ "It was a joke that went too far," Dustin mumbled under his breath._

_ "What are you talking about? Paul said. _

_ "Well, it had all started when-"_

A/N: And we leave off. This chapter has been sitting on my computer for a month now. That is ridiculous. I really need to collaborate better with my muses.

Cena muse: Miz hates you right now.

Me: Too bad. We need to keep going with this.

Gold Dust muse: Why am I such a damn bitch?

Me: ::shrugs:: What can I say? I'm a sucker for you and your brother kicking each other's asses.


End file.
